


Many Happy Returns

by Ursula



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Crossover, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-08
Updated: 2003-03-08
Packaged: 2018-11-20 09:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursula/pseuds/Ursula
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Many Happy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Many Happy Returns

### Many Happy Returns

#### by Ursula

  

    
    
         Title: Many Happy Returns 
         Author/Pseudonym: Ursula
         Fandom: X-Files crossover with Madison's Jack
         Pairing:  Mulder/Krycek Jack from Madison/Walter Skinner
         Rating: R
         Status: Finished
         Date Posted: 6-22-02
         Archive: Full House DITB RatB Aqualegia's Focused
         on Nick Lea Archive
         E-mail address for feedback:  or 
         Classification: Drama, Hurt Comfort
         Series/Sequel: Is this story part of a series: No
         Web Site: http://fullhouseslash.slashcity.net/~ursula/
         Disclaimers: I do not own X Files or Madison
         Notes: Nick Lea played a character, with no last
         name, named "Jack" in a TV series set in a high
         school, "Madison". He appeared to be raising his
         younger brother or at least was the only adult in
         the house shown. His younger brother was the
         perpetrator of a near date rape. Jack took him to
         task and appeared to be a warm, loving, and ethical
         man. The brother was a good match for Nick Lea in
         looks although I've helped that along a bit with
         plastic surgery.
         This is Jack's first appearance in X Files fan fiction.
         Beta thanks to Karen-Leigh S.
         Warnings: Hurt/Comfort
         Time Frame: After Season 8
    

* * *

Jack Randolph sighed as he moved toward the window to gaze out into the unseasonable rainstorm. It suited his mood however. Even his older sisters said that his moodiness in June was foolish, but Jack disagreed. Mary and Amy had big families of their own. Jack was unlikely to ever have a son or a daughter. His brother, Sam, had been his kid. He wasn't that much older, but his younger brother and he had had a special relationship since Sam was born. They shared the same birthday, seven years apart, June twenty-second. 

Of course, Jack understood now that when his mother put the baby in his chubby arms and said, "This is Sam, your baby," that it had been a technique to deflect jealousy. It didn't matter. Even when their parents had been alive, Sam had always come to him first. Jack had taught him to tie his shoes, to roller skate, to swim, and to ride a bike. When their parents had been killed in an auto accident, everyone had said that Sam should go to live with Mary who had already had a husband and baby. Sam had begged to finish the school year and somehow, it had never been time to make the move. 

Sometimes, Jack wondered if Sam had gone to live with Mary if it would have made a difference. He hoped not. He had done his best with Sam and except for that business with Allison, Sam had seemed to be doing fine. It still made no sense to Jack that Sam would have run away. He still felt that someone had taken his brother. 

Brooding, Jack looked at the law degree that hung on his wall. Most of his pro-bono work was juvenile law in memory of Sam. He wanted to believe that his brother was still alive, but his nights were haunted by speculations about some of the serial killers that had been preying on young boys around that time. 

How old would Sam be now? Thirty-three? It seemed impossible. The last time he had seen Sam, his brother had been looking forward to their birthday; Sam would have been sixteen. Sam had screwed up his first big date with a girl he had a crush on, coming too close to date rape. He could have messed up his entire life. Jack still couldn't believe that Sam had gotten as heavy with a girl as he had. 

It had been killing Sam. He kept hoping to make it right. At first, Allison had said she understood and believed that Sam was sorry. Jack had warned his brother that he should just leave it there, but Sam had gone to talk to Allison one more time, hoping for forgiveness. The girl said she had asked him not to come over anymore and Sam had stormed off into the night. He had never come home. Not ever... 

Something was scratching at the door. Damn stray cat was trying to move in and Jack had no intention of allowing it. Sure he had put a food dish out, but that didn't mean it was his cat. 

"You are not coming in," Jack shouted, unlocking the door to yell at the cat. 

Instead of the huge one-eyed tom with the mangled ear, Jack looked at a younger version of himself. There were differences, but it was an uncanny resemblance. 

"Sam?" Jack said. 

"Yeah, I was Sam," the man replied tiredly. He groaned and said, "Can I come inside? I was going to surprise you, but somebody else was living in the new house in town. The people living there said that you had come back here." 

"Oh, God," Jack said, "Yes, I moved back here. I never could sell the place and I decided I didn't mind the commute." Staring at his younger brother, Jack said, "You look a lot more like I did than I expected you would." 

"There's an explanation," Jack said. "I borrowed your ID." 

The guilty flicker was so uniquely Sam that any doubt was settled. "I wondered what happened to it." 

"I just wanted to have a few drinks," Sam said. 

Sam was shivering and Jack sighed. "Get your ass in here. You hungry? I can fix something." 

There was something odd about the way that Sam held his left arm. Jack asked, "You hurt yourself?" 

Staring at his hand as if it was something alien, Sam said, "No, not recently. It's all...better now. God, Jack, there's so much I have to tell you." 

"Inside," Jack said, his hand closing around his brother's arm. Come on. You're soaking wet." 

Shortly, Sam was sitting in a pair of Jack's sweats, a bowl of stew in front of him. He swirled his spoon in the bowl, but hadn't taken a bite yet. 

"Whatever it is, I can fix it," Jack said. 

"Big brother, how I wish that was true," Sam said. He reached into his jacket and flipped an ID at Jack. 

It was Sam's face, but not his name. It looked as if it was taken a few years back. Jack gaped at it. "Alex Krycek, Federal Bureau of Investigations? When and how did that happen?" 

"As I said, a long story," Sam said. He took a mouthful of stew and winced. "Same old Jack. You still can't cook for shit." 

"Sam, I think you better start that explanation," Jack said. 

"Yeah, well, you won't believe half of it," Sam said, "And call me Alex. It's been too long since I was Sam." 

"Alex?" Jack repeated, staring at the picture. 

"Alex," Sam said firmly. 

"Why the hell did you run away?" Jack questioned. "You know I would have stood by you no matter what you did." 

"Thanks a lot," Sam replied. "I didn't run and it wasn't that I was in any trouble. I was taken." 

It was the next to the worst of Jack's fears. At first, his sisters were sure that Sam had run away. He'd always been such an impulsive boy. Then, as the years passed, they whispered that one of the serial killers so rife in the area had gotten him. The idea of Sam, who was afraid of the dark, in some unmarked grave in the wilderness had tormented Jack. A few years ago, Jack had read about a family that found their son after years with a child molester. Sam had been a beautiful boy. What if he'd tried to hitchhike and got in the car with some monster in human form. 

"Oh my God, I have to call the police," Jack said. "When did he let you go?" 

"It was a 'they', Jack. I was on my way home. I decided getting drunk wasn't worth the trouble. I saw a bright light on the road and I felt dizzy. The next thing I knew something was pulling me up into the air. I passed out and I woke up with some hideous creatures hovering over me. Ah, Jack, you can't imagine what it was like...they took me apart and put me back together again," Alex said. 

Frowning, Jack rifled through a mental list of psychiatrists. 

Alex let loose a staccato burst of laughter. "No, I'm not insane, brother. I can prove it to you. You don't know how many times I wished that it were all a lunatic's fantasy. For now, just hear me out." 

Jack's brother clawed at the errant lock of hair that always drifted forward over his forehead. He said, "The experiments the aliens conducted didn't go well. My face was a mess when I woke up. It looked like a melted crayon. I lost it. I wanted to die so badly; all I could think about was that no one would ever want me. I was going to die a virgin! The survivors were dropped at a hospital of sorts to be studied by human doctors. I remember they were impressed that I had lived." 

"Sa...Alex, why would doctors go along with such a thing?" Jack asked, trying to be reasonable. 

"In every war, there are collaborators," Alex said darkly. He finished a few more spoonfuls of stew before shoving the bowl away. He picked up his ID. "One of the men in charge seemed interested in me. He showed me your ID and asked if I wanted to look like that again. I didn't even think about it. I said, sure, and that I would do anything. I regret those words. If I had only known." 

Alex laughed again and said, "It took more than a year to reconstruct me. I finally told them that it was a picture of you, not of me, but they didn't care. The final result was what you see in that ID. The techniques they used could revise plastic surgery enormously. Feel." 

Guiding Jack's hand to his face, Alex Krycek showed him that the face he wore was flawless. With a wide-eyed look, Alex brought the hand to his forehead. This was as smooth as the rest of him. Without a word, Alex drew a number of pictures from the packet of documents he carried with him. 

Horrified, Jack stared at a series of proofs that documented the reconstruction of a face after a gun shot wound to the direct center of the forehead. Alex said, "The man who shot me had more than enough reason to hate me. Alex Krycek had to die in a way that his enemies would believe. Walter Skinner was the perfect choice for that. He had more reason than most men to want me dead." 

"How could you survive something like that?" Jack said. He'd seen some rough things over his career when he'd worked as a public defender, but his own face shattered like that was a horror that would haunt him. Angrily, Jack added, "and who the hell is Walter Skinner? I'd like to get my hands on him!" 

Bitter laughter ripped from Alex's chest. He explained, "You could say that I have some special friends. They are very skilled at rebuilding you in a pinch." 

It made Jack crazy. He couldn't stand the idea of his brother going through all of that. "Are you safe? I mean, is anyone after you?" 

"I hope not. If there is, I think it will be people I can handle. Most likely, if anyone, it will be Mulder and Skinner, FBI agents," Alex said. 

Jack shook his head. Sam, oh Sam, trouble seemed to follow you from the day you could crawl. Taking a deep breath, Jack said, "FBI agents? From that ID I saw, you were an FBI agent." 

"Yeah," Alex agreed, "I was planted. It was a deep background. After my face was fixed, they sent me to a good military school. From there, I went to college and got myself recruited by the FBI." His eyes looked shyly at Jack, "I have a master's degree in Criminal Justice with a minor in computer science." 

Shaking his head, Alex said, "Man, I wanted to show you my grades. You remember how I used to just coast? Well, it turned out I could do a lot better with incentive. Oh, they gave me every reason to succeed. I saw what happened to poor students." 

Jack heard the hint of a quiver in his brother's voice. "Eat your stew, Alex. Don't worry. I'm going to take care of you." 

By the time, Alex had finished the bowl, he was yawning. Jack said, "Come on, your old room is set up as a guest room. I still have all your stuff in the basement. I never could bring myself to throw it away, even though Mary and Amy wanted to have you declared dead. I have the money Mom and Dad left for you in trust. You can have a good life here, Alex. We can see about having your degrees changed to your real name." 

"I'll think about it, I guess. I wouldn't recognize anyone calling me 'Sam' though, but if you can't get used to Alex," Jack's brother mumbled. 

"No, whatever you want. Come on. I'll walk you to your room," Jack said. 

Stripping off the sweat top, Alex tossed it onto the dresser top. Jack smiled at that, remembering that Sam had never worn pajama tops. Jack frowned as he noticed how strange the left arm looked. It was paler than the other, smaller, as if it had been injured when he was much younger than he was now. "What happened to your arm?" Jack asked. 

"That again is long, sad story," Alex replied. "Can it wait? I'll be staying a while if it's okay with you." 

"Of course, it's all right. You think I'm going to let you out of my sight after getting you back?" Jack said. 

"Wait until you hear more about me," Alex said, "You'll probably regret ever seeing me again." 

Shaking his head, Jack drew the blankets over his brother. He kissed Alex's forehead and said, "No, nothing can change the way I feel about you. You'll always be my Sam, my baby." 

The smile that crossed this stranger's face was Sam's. Jack felt his body shake in reaction. He stumbled out of the room and kept going until he found himself in the basement, kneeling in front of the trunks that held Sam's things. His sobs ripped from him as he clutched Sam's football to his chest. 

Coming to himself, Jack realized his throat was sore and his nose felt clogged. His knees were sore from contact with the cold concrete floor. Stiffly, he stood and stretched. He should call his sisters, but it could wait a day or two. Mary and Amy had never loved Sam the way Jack had. Sam had always been the changeling child, more passionate about life than his three siblings, more curious and quicker to find trouble. Maybe Mary and Amy remembered the pranks whereas Jack remembered the sweetness. Wilted flowers clutched in a chubby hand offered to Mom. The time Sam fell out of a tree and broke his arm trying his best to get a fallen bird back into the nest. The first playground fight Jack had fought on the behalf of a classmate who was being mocked. 

Remembering the wet clothing left in the mud room, Jack went to salvage it. Alex had been wearing black denim jeans and a black sweater. Both looked and felt expensive, but for some reason, the tags had been removed. The leather jacket must have been worth a few hundred at some point, but had seen better days. Jack removed a thick wad of cash from one of the inner pockets. Jesus, he hadn't seen the holster and the gun. Picking them up, he took them to the safe and locked them up, wondering if there was any chance that Alex had a permit to carry them. He put the cash on top of the gun. The wallet went on the table although when Jack picked the jacket up again, another ID fell from the breast pocket. 

Jack assumed it would be a false ID, but instead he looked at a sharp featured face, an arch of a nose, intent eyes, a full, almost petulant mouth, and an expression that even this formal portraiture could not make ordinary. The hair was cut in an untidy bristling fashion that looked like it could rise like a hawk's crest. Not one feature was cut in a classically handsome mold, but the overall effect was beautiful. 

"Fox Mulder?" Jack mused. "Well, little brother, I suppose I'll have to wait to hear why you carry this guy's ID around with you." 

Putting the laminated card with Alex's ID, Jack decided to check on his prodigal. He didn't feel as if he made any noise at all, but Alex's eyes flew open and he reached for a gun that wasn't there. 

"Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were sleeping," Jack said. 

"Fine," Alex said, "Jack, be careful around me, okay? In my life, surprises haven't been a good thing. Don't startle me." 

"Yes," Jack said. 

Well, that was interesting. Jack thought. He shook his head and decided to finish the brief he had been delaying. He knew he didn't want to work tomorrow. Perhaps if he finished the brief tonight, he could steal the rest of the day without explaining why. He had a feeling Alex would be hard to explain. 

* * *

Waking was odd. Sunlight strained through a misty morning. White curtains were limp against the window in this familiar room. Alex could see the big crack near the floorboard. He used to hide small treasures in there. A frog once when he was about five. Mary had run screaming out of the room, saying it was haunted. Hey, Mulder, investigate that! When he was thirteen, he had hidden two cigarettes in there. Jason Finch and he had smoked them down by the stream. Sam had been so sick that his mom kept him home from school the next day. Cigarette smoke always made him ill after that, which only partially explained how he felt about Mulder's real father, the smoking man. 

Yawning, Alex lay in bed for long luxurious moments. He couldn't believe he had come back here after all this time, but he was glad that he had yielded to the impulse. A wry grin crossed his face as he imagined how angry Mulder and Skinner were at this moment. 

Oh, yeah, it was their show of shows, those congressional hearings that loomed before them. Alex had never promised to stay for the triumphal march. In the end, he had done his part. He had left them nothing to complain about in his conduct. From the moment he had shown his face after whispering sweet nothings in Mulder's ear during the man's flight from the enemy, Alex had stayed firmly on the side of the angels. 

Too bad that Mulder listened to him better as a ghost. Liked him better that way too... 

Well too bad, Mulder, Alex wasn't ready to be dead yet even to gain back Mulder's love and affection. Alex grunted and kicked back the blankets to get up. He could smell breakfast cooking. Jack hadn't changed a bit. He was still a mother hen and, for that, Alex was glad. After his head started to clear of all of the consortium propaganda, he often dreamed about going home and seeing Jack. His wiser self had told him all that would do is get his brother killed. 

In the months since the aliens' defeat, there had been too much to do to think about home. Then two days ago, Alex woke and realized that there was not one meaningful item on the agenda Skinner had printed and given to him. It was all rehashing information that any decent researcher could have gleaned from the miles of videotape already on tap. 

It had taken less than half an hour to elude the guards that Skinner claimed were for his protection. Another hour or so to get to one of his caches and then to buy a beater car, using cash and one of his clean identities to register it. The car had only lasted long enough to get him to Portland, Oregon. He had grabbed a Greyhound to Vancouver then hitched his way to this offshoot of the city. The old Randolph home was set on an isolated steep hill without any another house around for a mile. After their parents died, Jack had moved to town to make it easier for Sam to get to high school, but he had hung on to the old family residence. Even though Alex had to walk a hell of a long way from where his ride dropped him, he was glad that Jack had moved back here. It was the place Sam remembered the best as home. 

Let the agents stew a little. He was the only one who didn't get their old life back. Mulder had been reinstated. Walter Skinner was riding high as one of the least compromised higher echelon. Even Alex had not realized how totally the consortium had infiltrated the FBI. Hell, Scully had her baby back. The couple that adopted little William had been nervous about keeping a kid that the tabloids claimed to be an alien hybrid. They said it was because they thought it was unfair to Scully to keep him with the danger passed, but Alex doubted that. 

Mulder kept giving Alex the evil eye. Hell was it Alex's fault that Scully and Mulder didn't exactly sing harmony in real life no matter how much they loved each other? Sure, perhaps, Scully was pissed when she read certain transcripts discussing 'violent deviant behavior' between Alex and Mulder even after Agent Krycek had to take a powder. Was it Alex's problem that Mulder had never come clean about what his history with his former partner truly involved? 

Mulder should have told Scully. Jack had always told Sam that you have sex with everyone that your partner has had. Jack was a smart guy and that was why he was still alive and HIV free. He had always been cautious and, of course, more so once all the information about AIDS hit the media. Of course, Alex had made a point of showing Scully his medical records. He was just as clean as his brother was. The Consortium took good care of you until they decided they didn't need you anymore. Alex had undergone monthly testing and they never made him have sex with anyone without protection. Scully didn't have to worry about him. Better to worry about Phoebe Green. That bitch had been a loose cannon. Scully said thank you for Alex's thoughtfulness, but it didn't exactly fix things between Mulder and her. 

Alex knew that Mulder had spent the night at Skinner's a few days ago. He had heard that voice when he listened in on Skinner with his favorite spy ware. He didn't trust Skinner anymore than the man trusted him. Walter Skinner was an intelligent man with a good case of situational morals. He was a dangerous man, information Alex had understood well enough to manipulate him into doing the dirty work of killing him for his old bosses. Another thing that Alex knew about Skinner was that he was also situational about whom he screwed. Alex hadn't slept that night worrying about Walter getting a leg up on Mulder. 

On the positive side, Alex knew that meant that Scully and Mulder weren't going to be together much longer. He could just hear Jack telling him that wasn't anything to be happy about, but he couldn't help the way he felt. Sometimes it seemed that Mulder was the only real thing in his adult life. All the rest was just a B movie nightmare. Darkly, Alex admitted that Scully and Mulder not being together was not the same as Mulder taking him back, but even a double agent could dream. 

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Alex contemplated his feet briefly before going through the physical therapy to build up the muscles in his replaced arm. The thing still ached most of the time, but he was recovering full range of motion and the nerves were working fine. Not even the most sophisticated artificial limb had given him more than a sense of pressure or weight. Alex wiggled his fingers meditatively. Eventually, his left arm would be as good as the right according to the alien rebels. Alex presumed they hadn't lied to him. They only lied when they had a good reason, but it seemed to be taking ages to heal. 

Maybe the pain was getting to him more since he was no longer running on an adrenaline high. Alex finished his exercises and went to use the john. He didn't feel like putting on the sweat clothes, but Jack had left clothing in the bathroom. Alex yelled out, "Hey, Jack, is this for me to wear?" 

"Yes," Jack yelled back. "Bacon and eggs for breakfast?" 

"Sounds good," Alex said. The shower felt good too, although Alex found himself listening for the rattle and whine of the old water heater that had been on the verge of going out when he had left. The new one delivered the hot water steadily, but Alex missed the old one. Somehow he had expected to find everything the same as when he had left. Yeah, right, who did he think he was? Dorothy? 

Jack's jeans and shirt fit him well. The jeans were just a little loose. Alex rolled up the sleeves of the green sweater and padded out in Jack's slippers. He said, "Thanks for the clothes, Jack. I couldn't pack a bag given my leave of absence wasn't authorized. I'll do some shopping later," Alex said. 

"I put your money in the safe. The gun too. Your ID is on the counter," Jack said. "Your clothes are in the wash. The jacket should go in for a cleaning." 

"Thanks, Jack, I really did outgrow leaving my wet clothes on the floor under normal circumstances,' Alex said. He picked up his wallet. Mulder's ID fell out. 

"Who is he?" Jack asked. 

"Someone I worked with," Alex said, "Or worked against. One or the other, both." 

"Yes? So you carry his FBI card because...?" Jack asked. 

"Pegged me," Alex said, "I'm more like you than I knew." 

"You're gay?" Jack asked. 

"Gay, bi, whatever," Alex said. "Mulder could have been someone special but I messed that up. I never stopped having a gift for screwing my life up. Ah, damn, I'll get off my pity pot. How about you, Jack? Anyone special?" 

"Just broke up with someone I thought was special," Jack admitted. "Closeted though. I wanted something more and he kept saying, give me more time. After ten years, I finally realized time had run out on us." 

"The bastard should have known you were the special one," Alex replied as he gazed at Mulder's picture. With a sigh, Alex put his stolen treasure back in his pocket. "You want me to talk to him?" 

Jack laughed and then perhaps catching the coldness that had crept into Alex's voice said, "Alex, you can't make people love you." 

"Yeah, I know that," Alex said. He said, "But they should love you, Jack. I've never met anyone like you in all this time. Sometimes, when things got bad for me, I'd try to imagine myself back here. I guess that's why I woke up two days ago and decided to come home." 

Setting a plate in front of Alex, Jack went to the fridge and brought out a pitcher of orange juice. "You still like fresh squeezed? I have a juicer now. We can have it all the time." 

"Yes," Alex said. 

"If you had called me, written, anything, I would have helped you," Jack said as he sat down. 

"Would have killed you," Alex said. 

"Come on, Sam, you always overly dramatized," Jack said. 

Flatly, Alex repeated, "They would have. Jack, I killed people for them. I know I should have been stronger. I knew it was wrong most of the time." 

"Killing people is always wrong," Jack said, his voice faltering in shock. 

"No, it isn't," Alex said. "My world has been different from anything you ever knew about." 

"I've done my share of criminal law," Jack said, "I worked for the public defender for a while. I volunteer with gang members." 

Laughter ripped acidly from Alex. He shook his head and said, "Not in my league, not even remotely. Hell, the people for whom I worked were ready to sell out the human race. I know this sounds crazy to you, but it's true. When I started out, I half believed them that the work they did was important. I tried to tell myself that I was special from the moment I was chosen by the grays to the day Spender, my boss, picked me out of the left over garbage to train. It took me a long time to realize that I had been picked for your looks, my brains, and my...weakness. They picked me because they thought I would do what I was told." 

"A-Alex...you have to let me get help for you," Jack said. 

Alex laughed again and said, "Just hang in there, Jack. Eventually it will be self-evident. The truth is out there." 

* * *

Later in the day, while Alex was taking a nap, Jack rang up Alan Snyder, a friend who did the court ordered diagnostics on the kids with whom Jack volunteered. A swift description of Alex's delusion resulted in silence and then, "Jack, I take it you haven't looked at today's paper?" 

"No, I haven't," Jack said, "Allison's kid always leaves it in the bushes and I had too much on my mind to go look for it." 

"Go find it, read it, and if you still want me to have a look at Sam, I will," Alan said. 

"You don't want to just tell me?" Jack said. 

"No, I don't want you questioning my sanity," Alan said. 

The paper was in the hedge, but at least, Danny had remembered to wrap it in plastic. Jack pocketed the sample of chewing gum that came with the wrap and tucked the paper under his arm. A cup of tea at hand, Jack sat down at the table that his brother had insisted on clearing. The headlines read, "Conspiracy revealed. Missing government witness worked for black ops. Were the grays real or part of a military cover-up?" 

Jack had to look twice to make sure that his newspaper had not been replaced with a supermarket tabloid. There was no picture, but the description was of a man in his thirties, known to have worked for an organization that spanned its web through the military, the FBI, and US intelligence. The tale questioned that there had ever really been aliens, implying that the super spies had perpetuated a deadly hoax on the US intelligence community, but stated that all had been revealed by a team of FBI agents, headed by Fox Mulder. 

Mulder's steely gaze glared through the camera lens. He refused to be quoted except for a sarcastic comment about the media buying whatever misinformation was fed them. 

The entire front section of the paper was devoted to discussion of the conspiracy. Alex had entered the room silently. His hand on Jack's shoulder startled him into dropping the paper. 

"Looks like the shit has hit the fan," Alex said. "I bet Mulder thinks that I leaked that before I took off." 

"Did you?" asked Jack. 

"No, but I didn't stop the leak. One of my old colleagues cracked under the pressure. I guess he figures that if he sings to the press; that he won't end up in front of a Grand Jury," Alex said. 

"I can't say I like the friendly expression on your friend's face," Jack said. 

"Yeah, Mulder isn't crazy about the press unless you're talking about his conspiracy nut friends," Alex said. "I have to warn you, Jack. Mulder is good and he has access to my old employer's records. Eventually that brilliant mind will connect the dots and he'll track me down." 

"Is that what you want, Alex? I'd guess if you wanted to hide, you would find a way to go deeper than this," Jack said. 

"I could, but all I wanted was a chance to see you before the shit hit the fan," Alex said. 

"You wanted Mulder to come after you," Jack said. 

"Maybe," Alex admitted. "It's not as if I want to avoid testimony. I was just tired of having them treat me like a prisoner. I'm a shit, but I've been fighting a private war against those men almost as long as Mulder has. At least, he had his Scully. I never had anyone." 

Raking his hand through his hair, Alex stood rumpled, looking like a baby bird, half fledged, fallen from the nest. Jack stood up and pulled his brother into his arms. "You have me now, Alex. If I'd known, I would have helped you." 

"You did, Jack. Knowing you were out there, the way you are, made me keep believing there was a reason for what I had to do. I didn't want you in it with me. I wanted you here, safe, the way you are," Alex said. He shrugged out of the hug and added, "I wouldn't have come here except there's no one left alive and out of prison that I'm afraid of. No one left but the bit players." 

"Then why a congressional investigation, Alex?" Jack asked. 

"To root it all out, to get the last germ of corruption from the US government. It's here too, Jack, here in Canada. They have their stinking vile fingers in every pot worth pissing into." Alex said rapidly. 

Jack looked back at the headlines as he listened into his brother's ragged, weary voice. "I should call Mary and Amy. Can I do that?" 

"I bet they won't be happy to hear the bad penny turned up," Alex said, "but go ahead." 

* * *

Mary arrived in two hours, alone surprisingly. Of course, maybe she wanted to test the waters before she exposed her kids to this resurrected brother. Time had been kind to Alex's older sister. There were a few white hairs but not many. Lines were a sunburst from her green eyes and there were shadows around her mouth, but good skin and great bones kept her beautiful. She still had the Randolph legs, impossibly long and well shaped. 

"Sam?" Mary said when Alex met her at the door. 

"Yeah, me," Alex said, "Only I go by Alex now. Samuel Alexander, remember?" 

"You changed your name? Why?" Mary asked, her voice condemning. 

"Because Samuel Randolph was a missing person, sister," Alex said, "The people who took me didn't need to be investigated for kidnapping." 

"Jack said you work for the United States government?" Mary said, pushing past him. 

"Yeah," Alex said. 

"But you're a Canadian citizen," Mary said. 

"You could say I was adopted by an American family," Alex said. 

"How could you let Jack suffer like you did?" Mary asked. 

"I didn't have any choice, Mary," Alex said. "I've explained to Jack." 

"Jack is too forgiving," Mary replied. 

"I won't argue with that," Alex said. 

"I just hope we won't all regret that you came home," Mary commented. 

Before Alex could say anything, Jack was on his feet, grabbing his sister's arm and said, "I won't regret Sam coming home. Mary, you're looking at a fucking miracle and you can't see beyond how it might affect your social standing in the Vancouver country club set." 

"That's not fair," Mary said, "It's you that I was concerned about." 

"Then be happy for me," Jack said, "I'm glad to have my brother back." 

Amy was living in Ontario these days. She couldn't come, as her daughter was ill. That suited Alex just as well. Amy and he should have been close, as she was nearest his age, but they never had been. For some reason, it had always been the girls versus the boys in the family. After Mom and Dad died, it had been Jack who held things together although Mary was the oldest. Jack was the one who compelled love, who smoothed over fights, and remembered all the family events. Jack was the one who was his Mom all over again. 

Awkwardly, Mary kissed Alex on the cheek, stroked her fingers through his hair, and said, "I am glad that you're alive. It was just such a shock. Listen, I'll have to bring my husband and the kids to meet you." 

"Yeah," Alex said, but he doubted she would. 

Jack said, as Mary drove off, "Alex, you know Mary means well. She just has a hard time accepting things. When I came out, I thought she was never going to speak to me again." 

"I wish I had been here for you," Alex said. 

"Yeah, when you caught me with Don, it nearly killed me. I was afraid that you wouldn't be able to cope with it," Jack said. "I have to admit it surprises me that you're bi. You were always such a macho little shit." 

"Yeah, well, the man I worked for didn't really care to ask about preferences. You did as you were told and that included in bed," Alex stated. Might as well let Jack know how it was. 

"Jesus, Alex," Jack exclaimed. "Look, if these people made you have sex with guys, it doesn't mean that you're gay. It doesn't work that way." 

Smiling wryly, Alex said, "They made me get into bed with the people they chose. They didn't make me fall in love with another man." 

"Fox Mulder," Jack said. 

"Yes, Fox Mulder..." Alex said. 

"I hope he feels the same," Jack said. 

"Like hell he does," Alex said. "I loved him, but I let my masters persuade me that he was a risk to the project. I thought the project was defending the earth against the things that captured me." 

"The paper said that the aliens were a fraud, disinformation spread to cover the acts of that government conspiracy," Jack said. 

"That's a lie," Alex said, "We've all agreed to let the truth slip out in stages to avoid panic. The aliens were real." 

Jack frowned and said, "Well, didn't Mulder understand that you didn't have a choice?" 

Chuckling, Alex said, "There are always choices. In my experience, the problem is that usually there aren't any good ones. I loved him but I believed that he was a loose cannon. I thought he had to be reined in, lest he bring it all down on our heads before we were ready." 

"And then?" Jack asked. 

"And then, I found out that there was no grand plan of resistance, at least, not that the men for whom I worked were implementing. I found out that the old men were planning to sell out the majority of humanity to save a few. Still, to this day, I don't know what they were thinking, why they thought collaboration would buy anything but a little time. I found out that I betrayed the man I loved for a bunch of bastards who were selling out. I thought I could play it safe and work against them from the inside. I guess I wasn't as smart as I thought I was. They tried to kill me. I couldn't go back to the FBI after what I had done. So I started my private war," Alex said. 

"So, didn't that put you on the same side as your lover?" Jack asked. 

"I was on my own side," Alex replied. "I won't make it pretty for you, Jack. I did things that were terrible. I can't say that I regret most of them. I do regret that Mulder knows what I did. It's a case of his ignorance having the potential of my bliss." 

* * *

Alex was in town picking up some clothing when the FBI agents showed up at Jack's door. Glancing out, Jack saw two men in suits. His first thought was that there must be new Jehovah's Witnesses in town. 

An arm lashed out as Jack opened the door. He gazed into hazel eyes that held fire and ice. A moment later, the man shoved him away and yelled, "Who the hell are you? You're not Alex Krycek!" 

"Of course, he is," the other man said. 

"I know Alex Krycek and this is not him! What have you done with Alex?" Mulder demanded. 

Rubbing his neck, Jack pushed the FBI agent away. The man had done something to his hair since the ID picture had been taken. It looked as if someone had haphazardly hacked it with a dull knife. "I haven't done anything with my brother. He just went shopping. You're Agent Mulder. Alex has a picture." 

The bigger man folded his arms and glared at Jack. "You're his brother?" 

"Yes, I'm Jack Randolph. He was Sam Randolph before...before he was kidnapped," Jack said, meeting the hazel eyes and the brown eyes. 

"You look uncannily alike," Skinner said. 

"No doubt," Jack said. "How did you track him down?" 

"Transceiver in his wallet," Mulder said. "I thought he might get itchy feet." 

Jack wondered if Alex had been that careless or if it was some elaborate 'chase me' game that his brother was playing. 

"You may as well come the rest of the way inside and wait. Alex expected you would be along," Jack said. 

* * *

"Coffee?" Jack asked. He had made scones for Alex and begrudgingly put a basket out with the homemade huckleberry jam he had bought from Lucy Johnny. 

"Yes," Mulder said. 

Jack thought the man looked incredibly tired. As soon as he realized that Jack was not Alex, his manner changed. He kept glancing at Jack out of the corner of his eyes, but he was apologetic. 

Walter Skinner on the other hand seemed unconvinced. His direct gaze struck Jack as sexy, even knowing that the man was probably just trying to be certain that this was not one of Alex's games. 

"Alex didn't say anything about a brother," Skinner said. 

"I didn't get the impression that Alex and you had a lot of polite conversations," Jack pointed out. 

"We worked together," Skinner said. "That was more of a concession than your brother deserved." 

Any argument was silenced by Alex's arrival. Jack stood in the doorway and said, "You two just sit there. This is my house and you aren't manhandling my brother here." 

Alex dropped his bags in the corner of the room. He was wearing a black tee shirt and black denim jeans. He said, "I don't suppose it entered your heads to find a way to get here that didn't involve a rental car? I saw some of my old friends lurking about town." 

"I thought all your friends were dead?" Mulder said. 

"Well these particular ones happen to work for a man who probably thinks I don't remember him. He only met with Spender once or twice. It was right after I left the FBI. Spender hadn't decided what to do with me other than beat the shit out of me,' Alex said. 

"Who is he? Is he on the list?" Mulder said. 

"Jacob Bucher," Alex said, "I hadn't told you about him yet." 

Mulder was across the room and shaking Alex in a moment. As Jack leapt to rescue his brother, Skinner stood up with a weary sigh and said, "Can we cut the crap, gentlemen?" 

The two men separated and Mulder said, "As this is your brother's house, I won't give you what you deserve." 

"Krycek, why did you withhold information? We had a deal," said Skinner. 

"It was insurance," Alex admitted. "If I give it to you all at once, how do I know you won't just throw me in with the rest of the sharks?" 

"Because unlike you, we're men of honor," Skinner said. 

"Besides, I don't have any heat on Bucher other than him or his aides meeting with Spender," Alex said. "I never found any records of transactions and I know he wasn't one of the old men. The guy is rich. He writes a syndicated column that gets picked up in a more papers than you would think. I didn't see any reason to finger him unless I had proof." 

"What do you mean old men?" Jack said. 

"The men I used to work for. They began a project during World War Two. On the surface, the purpose was collaboration with the aliens. Some of them were genuine collaborators, but others were looking for tools to defeat the aliens," Alex said. "When I finally got my head out of my ass and got ready to fight, one of the resistance fighters approached me. Between us, we put together a plan. He brought me back inside the project and gained me access to information that I would have never been allowed to see without his patronage." 

"Well, if we were followed, that's all the more reason why we should leave now. You don't want Jack caught in the middle of anything," Skinner said. 

"You're right," Alex said. 

"I'm not afraid, Alex," Jack said. 

"Then you're an idiot," Alex replied. He glanced at Mulder and Skinner and said, "Let's get out of here. Jack, you go some place else for a few days. Don't stay here." 

The impulse to argue died at the look in Alex's eyes. For the first time, Jack really believed his brother was everything Alex had said he was. "Yeah, I'll just call and see if I can use Paul's cabin." 

The line was silent, not even a hiss. Jack said, "Phone line is down again. I knew I should have insisted on a road crew being sent out to top that tall fir tree." 

"The line could be down," Skinner said hopefully. 

Mulder and Krycek shook their heads. Jack went to get his mobile phone. Phone lines being cut was not exactly the fool proof means to cut off communication it had been. Staring at the phone, Jack said, "Nothing but static." 

"Yeah, they have to block mobile phones these day as well as cut phone lines," Alex said. "Come on, Mulder. Give me the keys and cover me." 

"Why you?" Mulder grumbled, but handed the keys to Alex anyway. "Don't say I never let you drive." 

A soft exhalation of a laugh greeted that comment. Alex swiftly moved out the door, to one of the sturdy columns. His dash to the oak tree that shadowed most of the yard was jagged lightening. 

"Wild thing, you make my heart sing," Mulder remarked. 

Alex crouched by the car. 

"What the hell is he doing?" Jack asked. It looked as if Alex couldn't open the door. 

A moment later, Alex abandoned whatever he was doing and ran like a rabbit back to the house. 

"What's wrong?" Skinner asked. 

"Did either of you look under the hood recently?" Alex asked. 

"Hell of a time to become a tune-up fanatic," Mulder commented. 

"I'm serious. Did you?" Alex asked. 

"No," Skinner replied. 

"There was a smudge of fresh oil near the handle with a thumbprint that I didn't recognize," Alex said. 

"That doesn't mean the car is wired to explode," Mulder said. 

Lightening crackled nearby as the summer storm picked up. The sound of the explosion was a lot louder than thunder. Almost immediately, a shot narrowly missed Alex, shattering the window. 

"Jack, you go to the cellar." Alex yelled from the floor. 

"What? I'm not going to go hide while someone takes pot shots at my little brother!" Jack said with outraged pride. 

"Alex is right, Mr. Randolph," Skinner said. "We'll take care of each other. You're a civilian and the best thing you can do is stay out of the way so we don't have to worry." 

"I need the combination for the safe," Alex said. "Since you put my gun in there." 

"Since when do you need a combination for anything?" Mulder commented. 

Alex shot him a look. Jack said, "I'll get your gun." 

Not being fond of guns hadn't stopped Jack from getting one and taking gun safety classes. He was aware that his profession left him at risk and his volunteer work for juveniles brought him in contact with gang members who sometimes felt that the best way to make sure lawyers won their cases was to do a drive by when someone lost. Jack handed Alex his gun, watching as Alex rapidly checked it. His brother's face had gone feral. His eyes were intent, his movements swift and precise. 

Alex said, "Get in the basement, Jack. I don't want to worry about you." 

"I'm not going to sit down there and wait for these guys to come after me," Jack said. 

Giving up, Alex said, "Then keep the fuck down and away from the window. I'm going to secure the back of the house." 

"I'll help," Jack said. 

"No, stay put!" Alex said. He crawled over and grabbed Jack by the ankle to make him get down. Tugging his brother, as if he was a recalcitrant pet, he took him to Skinner and said, "Here, take care of my brother, Skinner." 

"I will," Skinner said, putting a hand on Jack. "Let your brother work. This is his world now." 

"I'll help Alex," said Mulder. 

Jack frowned and said, "Sam was always so hard headed." 

"But in this instance he's right," Skinner said. "He and Mulder make a good team. Don't worry. They don't argue when they're working together." 

Skinner said, "How do you feel about that piano sacrificing its life for the cause?" 

"Go for it. It's just an old one that we all had lessons on until our parents died," Jack said. 

At least, Skinner let him help move the heavy old furniture around as barricades. It made Jack glad that he hadn't redecorated. His parents liked sturdy, old, solid furniture that could stand up to rampaging kids; Jack hoped that it could stand up to a bullet as well as it stood up to four rowdy Randolphs. 

Every time that Jack tried to get a shot off, Skinner yelled, "Stay back." 

The big bald man seemed to be a good shot. Jack heard at least two screams as the bullets hit home. "How many do you think there are?" Jack asked. 

"Ten at the most. There were only two cars," Walter said. He edged back toward the window to shoot again. 

"Someone will spot the car fire," Jack said. 

"I hope so," Skinner said. "Oh shit, down." 

Before Jack could register the words, Skinner tackled him at the same time as a flaming missile broke through yet another window. Jack yelled as his sleeve caught a splattering of the clinging fiery substance. 

"Stay still," roared Skinner. 

There was a flash of heat then Skinner was pounding on him and it was gone. Skinner's glasses were knocked askew, both of them were panting, and their limbs were tangled. Jack laughed softly and said, "Well, it was good for me, was it good for you?" 

Skinner's face lit in a grin and his eyes sparkled. "You're as much of a brat as your brother, aren't you Jack?" 

Jack scrambled to grab a rug to beat out the flaming bottle. "Bastard is trying it again," Skinner rumbled. He fired and this time the screams were horrible. Jack couldn't help looking and seeing a man rolling desperately on the ground as fire clung to him. 

"What the hell is that?" Jack said, "That's not just gasoline, is it?" His arm felt as if he had a bad sunburn. Skinner's left hand was blistered. 

"Homemade Napalm...gasoline and dish soap, or gasoline and gelatin," Walter said. "Nasty stuff." 

Skinner might have said more, but Jack had captured a wastebasket and was puking his guts into it. 

* * *

"Put a little more muscle into it," Alex nagged as Mulder strained to move the refrigerator in front of the back door. 

"I am," Mulder said. "Unlike you, I didn't moonlight with Starving Student Movers during school or did you build up all that muscle burying the bodies?" 

"Just shut up, Mulder," Alex said. "The dining room should be safe. The hillside is steep on that side, but that big kitchen window..." 

Taking hold of Alex's arm, Mulder said, "I want Bucher, Alex. We have to take the leader alive and get him to talk." 

"You don't ask for much do you?" Alex said. "I was thinking about getting all of our asses out of here alive. Especially my brother's." 

"Yes, I agree, Jack has a very cute ass," Mulder said. 

"Stop looking at it," Alex said, "Jack isn't for you." 

"Alex, you are so easy," Mulder chided. 

"He's my brother. I don't want my ex-lov...whatever the hell we were, fuck buddies, messing up my relationship with him," Alex said. 

"Jack isn't my type," Mulder said, "I was thinking about this the other day and Walter pointed out that my type is male, dangerous, a back-stabbing son of a bitch with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen." 

"Skinner said that?" Alex asked. 

Bullets interrupted the conversation. Mulder and Krycek moved as one man firing so closely together that the man who had burst through the window fell with two gun shots fractions apart. A second man dived into the bushes and combat crawled out of sight. Alex briefly checked the body and said, "This one won't be talking." 

Another incautious man was picked off by Alex's shot and then Mulder's bullet also found a target. Mulder yelled, "Walter, are you all right?" when they heard a loud crash from the living room. 

"We're fine," Walter yelled. 

"I told you that these guys were jerks," Alex said. "The ones I saw in town were half trained paramilitary. Bucher is too stupid to hire pros." 

"You going to complain to the 'assassins and mercenary union'?" Mulder jibed. 

"Mulder, do you have to be such an asshole?" Alex asked. 

"I guess not, Alex," Mulder replied. "Not when we make such beautiful music together. Do you have any ideas how we can get out there and capture one of them?" 

"Well, when I was a kid, I used to jump down to the shed and then climb the apple tree to go out with my friends," Alex said. 

"Gee, thanks for sharing," Mulder said. 

"Yeah, well, I'm still up to it even with my birthday coming up," Alex said. 

"Okay, I'm game. I'm in as good a shape as you are," Mulder said. 

"Yeah, right, Mulder, but one of us has to cover the back. You're elected because I know the area better than you," Alex said. 

Mulder fired two more shots and then reloaded. He said, "Yeah, come here for a second first." 

Jerking Alex close, Mulder kissed him and said, "Be careful out there. I've been thinking about inextricable relationships and... you know something...sometimes you don't want to get out of them." 

Just when Alex thought he knew the score with Mulder... 

Well, this was a change he could appreciate. Maybe all those birthday wishes he had never made had mutated into one colossal fickle finger of fate, this time not flipping him off. Alex drew a deep breath and decided he was going to bring back Matthews. The ex-mercenary was the leader of the men and what passed for brains in the group. 

Alex's old room seemed surprisingly small in the daylight. His head grazed the ceiling of the dormer. The window hinge was rusty. Instead of swinging out when he pushed on it, the window clattered to the side and dangled from the chain. Alex froze and waited for some one to look up and see him. 

Nothing happened. Alex cautiously swung out onto the ledge. The tool shed was only a couple feet away, not the huge canyon he had perceived as a kid. He landed easily and crawled on his belly to the apple tree. He was covered with blossoms by the time he reached the ground. 

The heavy vegetation concealed Alex as he rapidly circled around to the back of the attackers. Shit, they were down to three men. Mulder and he had taken out three. Walter must have bagged his share. Alex hoped that Jack hadn't had to kill anyone. His older brother was innocent and Alex hoped he would stay that way. 

Mulder might not think too much of his methods, but Alex calmly shot the biggest man. He fell. The next man spun around and got off a wild shot. Unfortunately, the most dangerous man was left and Alex had promised to bring him back alive. 

Matthews was hunkered down between the cars. Alex didn't have a clear shot and neither did Mulder or Skinner. 

"Hey, Matthews, is Bucher worth dying for?" Alex yelled. 

"Worth more than your fag ass," Matthews shouted. 

"I can make you a deal," Alex said. 

"Since when do they let punks like you make deals? From what I hear you sold your entire organization out to that Jewish fag you like to fuck," Matthews said. 

"If you had a brain, you'd know that you're working for a man who was part of a conspiracy to sell out humanity to aliens," Alex said. 

"Yeah? You believe in elves and fairies too besides these aliens? I heard you were spouting a line of shit to those pinkos who run the government, but I didn't think you were stupid enough to believe it," Matthews said. 

"Regardless of what I believe, those are police sirens I hear," Alex said. "I can make a deal, Matthews. Mulder wants Bucher. You can stand up and take the rap for him or you can do a few years in a country club prison. What do you think Bucher is going to do when they put you on trial? Do you think he'll get you out of it?" 

There was a long silence. Alex hoped he had read Matthews right. The man had sold his skills for money in the past. Despite lip service to the cause, Matthews had been collecting a fat paycheck for doing Bucher's dirty work. 

Finally, Matthews said, "Yeah, okay, but I don't want to do time. You got that?" 

"Yes," Alex said, "throw down your guns." 

Alex waited for the guns to hit the ground. 'All right, Mulder', he thought 'if this is what you want from me as your bride's price, you have it'. 

The sirens were very near as Alex approached the mercenary. Alex was aware of Skinner, Mulder, and Jack coming towards them. The slight distraction was enough for the bastard. Matthews had one more gun. He aimed at Mulder and Alex roared in agony, closing the remaining steps like a thrown javelin. The gun turned back on him. The bullet was a streak of fire along his arm. Alex got his arm back up instantly. His mind calculated and he put the shot solidly in the man's shoulder. Matthews went down. 

Sheer will kept Alex on his feet until he saw Skinner kick the gun away from Matthews. As he started to tumble downward, Jack and Mulder caught him. Looking into their worried faces, Alex fought an impulse to giggle. He said, "Whoops, slight miscalculation... I zigged when I should have zagged." 

OooOooO 

As Jack walked out of his brother's hospital room, he met Paul Oswald. The sheriff looked around before hugging Jack and asking, "Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine, except..." Jack said with a wince, "I have a first degree burn right where you have your hand. One of those men threw a Molotov that was modified to have napalm like qualities. I caught it with my arm." 

"Jesus, what a mess," Paul said. 

Paul was a good-looking guy. Nearly as good looking as when he had been the captain of the football team. His full head of hair held not a trace of white. Jack sighed. Appearances...that was all that Paul was ever about. Jack wanted someone more substantial, and there he was. 

Coming out of the treatment room, Walter Skinner saw Paul moving back. He paused until Jack said, "Hey, I thought we might go out and get some decent coffee." 

"I'd like that," Skinner said. "I suppose that means Alex is okay?" 

"He's going to be fine, although they want to keep him overnight," Jack said. 

"I'm glad. I really am," Skinner said. 

"I still have to thank you for putting out that fire, Mr. Skinner," Jack said. 

"I think considering what we've been through, you can call me Walter," Skinner said. 

"I'd like that, Walter," Jack said. 

"Mulder with Alex?" Walter asked, taking Jack's arm, the one that hadn't been injured with a challenging look at Paul. 

"Jack, I think we should talk," Paul said. 

Paul and Jack had so much history with each other. All those promises and the man was still not willing to take a risk about being seen with Jack in public unless it was some function where a lawyer and sheriff might be expected to be seen. 

"There's nothing more to say, Paul," Jack said. He turned his gaze back to Walter Skinner's brown eyes. Alex had as much as told him that Skinner was bi. Jack bet he could swing the man entirely to his side of the dating pool. 

"So, Walter, I think my brother needs representation," Jack said. 

"If that means you will be coming to DC, then I agree," Walter replied. "Good evening, Sheriff." 

Paul looked as if he wanted to find some reason to arrest the assistant director, but he finally shook his head and walked on. Yeah, Jack thought so. It was definitely time for a change. 

"Let me just say good night to Mulder and Alex," Walter said. 

The two of them quietly opened the door. There were two heads on the pillow, one sable and the other a lighter shade of brown. Two hands entwined. Alex's cheek was pressed to his lover's. 

Jack held a finger to his mouth and backed out of the room. 

"Do you think Mulder is back in love with my brother?" Jack asked. 

"I'll tell you a secret, Jack," Walter said, "I don't think Mulder could ever stop loving him." 

"Sam always was lovable," Jack said. 

Walter's gaze was unmistakable. He said, "You know what? I think it might run in the family." 

With that, Jack smiled. Sam always tried to bring his big brother the best gifts for their shared birthday. Now after coming home, after all these years, Jack thought Sam had brought him the best gift of all. His brother back and just maybe, looking at Walter Skinner's appreciative eyes, maybe even a new love... 

The End 

For Nick Lea's Birthday challenge   
  

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Ursula


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